


Fuck This Bullshit

by lingeringdust



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-17 18:44:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5881519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lingeringdust/pseuds/lingeringdust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Delphine comforts Cosima in a moment of weakness.</p><p>Written for ladiesbingo (illness). Happy femslash february!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fuck This Bullshit

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for purr purrr (ff.net) for translating this into Russian. Found: ficbook.net/readfic/4112754

“I’m fine, Delphine,” Cosima says, brushes her off. She refocuses her attention on the laptop in front of her, squints at the screen in an attempt to decipher the scientific terminology -- which normally wouldn’t give her too much trouble -- except.

Except Cosima’s too busy trying to keep herself from coughing up blood, or keeling over in pain, or ignoring the millions of pins and needles poking at her body, a red hot knife slicing through her lungs.

“You say that,” Delphine says. She towers over Cosima as the younger woman lounges on the couch, somewhere Cosima immediately sought out whenever she felt a particularly bad day coming.

Cosima takes a deep breath.

“Let me just,” she pauses, lets her eyes flutter shut. Her arms automatically come up, hovering in the arm between the two of them, as if she were casting a spell. “Let me just have some space.”

From the corner of her eye, Cosima can see Delphine shift away from her and her sacred couch space. Cosima takes a few more deep breaths, tries to imagine the pain ebbing away, or traveling down to somewhere that wasn’t her lungs and preventing her from trying to breathe so she could finally sit and focus and work.

But if anything, the pain grew.

Cosima coughs. And coughs. And then she couldn’t stop. Body bent over, bowed, head tilted forward as blood drips onto the hardwood floor. 

Someone hands her a tissue and Cosima immediately places it over her mouth. Fuck, fuck this, she thinks. 

The pain slowly eases, slightly, but throbs painfully. a reminder of what’s to come. Of what’s happened.

Cosima leans back against the couch, wants to lay down, wants to close her eyes, sleep. Shut her eyes forever. Except she can’t.

“Here,” Delphine’s voice jerks her away from her thoughts. She pushes a cup into Cosima’s hands, lets Cosima take her time prying her fingers open so she can grasp the cup without pain. 

Water. Cosima drinks, greedily, lets the cool liquid heal her throat, ease her pain.

Delphine pats Cosima’s thigh; Cosima moves it, allows Delphine to settle into the couch next to her. Settle into her safe space. Her presence does wonders for her pain; immediately, the pain begins to ebb away. 

Cosima leans into her, leans into the warmth. Exhaustion takes over.

Delphine pulls her into an embrace, presses feather light kisses along the crown of her head. 

“You’ll be okay,” she murmurs, lets slip a couple of French endearments. She pulls Cosima further into the embrace, lets her body mold against hers, close enough so that they could see each other’s faces and lay on the couches, propped up by pillows.

Cosima opens her mouth and closes it, several times. The words she wants to say stay stuck at her throat, along with the pain. 

I feel so helpless, she wants to say, thank you she wants to say. I hate this, she wants to say. 

“Fuck this,” she actually says.

Delphine chuckles, warm vibrations reverberating down Cosima’s spine, body, as she leans into Delphine’s touch. 

“Yes,” she says. “Fuck all of this.”

Cosima smiles and leans in further, as much as she can. She shuts her eyes, lets herself listen to Delphine’s breaths, enjoys it even. They slowly lull her to sleep.


End file.
